


Short and Small

by argylemikewheeler



Series: Tumblr Re-posts [72]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Mike is an idiot but a great boyfriend, Period-Typical Homophobia, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argylemikewheeler/pseuds/argylemikewheeler
Summary: Will freaking out at Mike for being "too tall"-- but of course that’s not really what he's upset about. It's other people that seem to have a problem with Will being "too" short-- a "girl's height".
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Series: Tumblr Re-posts [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1312241
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	Short and Small

It’s in the grocery store that Will just _snaps_ at him.

Will's going shopping for his mom after school. It’s no big thing; Will enjoys the time alone. Except of course, it’s the last day before spring break and Mike’s ~~skipped the last day of school and~~ driven up to see him. Mike’s an extra set of hands to help brings bags into the house, and he’s not too bad of a driver to man the cart.

When Mike pulls up to the house-- just as Will’s grabbing his bag and getting to Jonathan’s car-- he looks so different. His hair is just a little shorter-- cropped and kept, just how Ted likes it, but with Karen’s kind influence of _letting him be, Ted, come on._ The main thing, at least to Will, is that he’s _taller_. The man is _taller_. Will feels his neck crack as he tilts back, just a _little_. He didn’t shrink, but when Mike runs up to him, he swears he did.

When Will is silent and stares at him for a while, Mike replies that he’s six-foot-two. Which is fine. It’s fine. It’s just that Will is five-foot-six still. But _whatever_. It’s fine.

Will kind of forgets about it-- forgets about how his new friends call him _small._ Not short but _small;_ how his new doctor is worried he’s stunted from all his “medical trauma” and is trying to talk his mother into having him take steroids; how he secretly likes being the same height because he knows his mom can’t afford buying both him _and_ El new clothes; how he hates that the first thing people notice between him and Mike isn’t even that they’re two men, since Will’s short enough to match people’s perception of what “normal” couples look like. Will just forgets about it. And for a while it’s nice.

Mike doesn’t know jack _shit_ about vegetables and Will teaches him how to pick fruit that is just the right amount of unripe so it will last longer in the fridge. Mike pushes the cart and nods, at least pretending he’s enjoying the lesson. It’s 1988 and Mike places his hand on Will’s back when he stands and stares at the wall of soup cans, trying to read prices and brands quickly. It’s 1988 and Will doesn’t even watch how he says “ _Michael”._ It’s a nice outing until they get to the cereal aisle.

It is nearly cleaned out, all the extra boxes up on the top shelf in disorganized storage stacks. Will groans and steps up onto the bottom shelf, his hand straining as he feels around for a box of _something_. His ribs are pressed to the middle shelf and he tries to keep from swearing. There’s an older lady with two young kids that’s been watching them since they arrived in the aisle-- Mike’s hand gently finding Will’s-- and Will doesn’t want to give her any ammunition to start shouting.

“Would you like some help, Will?” Mike laughs and grabs him under the arms. He hoists Will _nearly_ like he’s weightless, helping him step down to the floor again.

Will sighs. “Yes.”

“What do you want?” Before Will can answer, Mike is sliding box after box down and placing them on the shelves in front of Will’s eye line. “I’ve got ‘em all.”

“I just needed the Cheerios, thanks.” Will grumbles, taking the box and tossing it into the cart. He pushes the cart and they leave the woman’s stare. He feels tense all over again. He forgets to keep forgetting about it-- about everything-- for a moment.

“How do you do this without me.” Mike is simply trying to tease him-- be verbally affectionate when his hands can only jostle his shoulders. “I need to think about moving up here you don’t have to struggle every time you just want to _buy_ something--”

“ _Shut up_ , Mike.”

“W--What? What did I say? Was it that you’re short? Because... Will, we know this. It’s my favorite thing about you, you know that.”

“I don’t really want to hear it right now.” Will isn’t aware he’s clenching his teeth until he hears himself speak. “Being _small_ is kind of not my favorite.”

“Oh, but-- It’s fun! You fit right under my arm and you don’t really need to steal as much of the blankets when we sleep--”

“Mike.” Will tries to drop out from under Mike’s arm: he placed it around his shoulders to demonstrate his point. Will is suddenly very aware that they’re two men, even if from every other angle no one seems to notice because he’s... a full eight inches shorter than Mike. It doesn’t feel great to be able to excuse homophobia because he’s _as short as a girl_. “Mike, please shut up.”

“What?” He’s sincere, but he’s still very confused. He still thinks it’s about being short. He doesn’t move his arm. “OH, well, actually I do hate the whole _you-get-to-steal-my-clothes-thing_. But if those are the reparations--”

“Would you just _shut up_ , Tall Boy!” Will snaps, twisting around to face Mike. They’re in the middle of the baby section, where no one would be likely to stumble into them.

“T-Tall Boy?” Mike laughs, but he’s still trying to figure out that Will’s genuinely upset. “I-- What? What happened? Did I say something?”

“Yes! Stop talking about how short I am. I hate it.” Will doesn’t know why but he chokes up a little. He pretends he needs to be looking at plastic sippy cups. They look so out of place when the older lady and her children come strolling past. “I hate remembering I’m short.”

“Remembering.” Mike repeats. “Do you... _forget?”_

“El grew four inches in like... _two months_.”

“Okay...”

“Mom had to buy her new skirts and jeans because they got _too short, too fast_. It was the middle of winter and her ankles were so chapped-- She worked another two shift to pay for it.” Will’s breathing is choppy and it’s so stupid. Mike is silent-- but because he’s _listening_ , which is still weird for Will to think about.

“Okay. So shortis good. You’ve got all your clothes and you’ve got all mine if you need it. And I’m sure Steve’s got more stuff that’s up your alley. It’s okay. Will, it’s okay. I won’t let you go cold.” Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders, his thumbs brush against his neck.

“They say I’m _small_ at school.” Will pushes through. “Small. You know what else is small? Babies are small. Mistakes are small. OH and you know what is usually small? _Girls_. Girls are small-- except my sister. Who’s giant--”

“She’s only like... five-nine.”

“Mike.”

“Sorry, literal perspective I see is not the point here.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just-- People don’t think you’re gay sometimes.” Will realizes this doesn’t make sense to anyone but him.

“Uh. That’s... I’m not sure that’s our fault.”

“Well, see, it’s _my_ fault. From a distance, I look like your girlfriend. Not a very, short short man.”

“Well, that’s not your fault. People are blind and weird and straight. That’s not-- You’re not a girl, Will. You definitely aren’t a girl nor look like one or act like one or-- You just aren’t. Being short is not a fault!”

Will sighs and leans into Mike’s hand. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I could complain-- would you like me to?” Mike says with a smile. His eyebrows are still furrowed though: he’s upset. “I hate that you can fit comfortably on any bed we share. I hate that... You sometimes can buy kids’ shirts? Because they’re _always_ cooler. Like, you have one you bought as a painting smock that has a freakin shark on it and I gotta say... Men’s clothes, not as cool! I’m _less cool_ as my _art school boyfriend_ because I got tall too quick. Dude, that _sucks_. I want to be cool like you!”

Will is definitely crying, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He laughs and smiles. He hopes it makes up for his sniffling. “You think I’m cool?”

“Yeah! My cool, short boyfriend. He’s awesome and he’s super nice because he... like... _worries about the socio-political meaning of him **being** short_. Like. He’s so smart. So smart.”

“He’s the only one who knows what the hell a mango is in your relationship.” Will says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah! Concentrated intelligence!” Mike reaches for Will’s underarms again. He catches Will’s smile before jokingly hoisting him an inch off the ground. “He’s better because of-- everything, but right now let’s say it’s because he’s not a six-foot-two monster who hits his head on every door frame in his house.”

“Oh my god-- is that what that bump is from?” Will hiccups, laughter nearly scaring him. “Oh, _Michael,_ you poor.... _tall_ thing.”

They laugh in the baby aisle until Will’s face is less red and puffy. As they walk, Mike makes jokes about the weird names of food brands. He offers to get Will things on _all_ shelves, just being a helpful partner rather than a shopping giraffe. He repeats Will’s name every time he speaks to him and someone is in earshot. Will smiles and each time calls him a sappier and sweeter version of “ _Michael_ ”. Will finishes shopping and feels rather accomplished as they pack the car up.

He forgets about everything again for a while. Everything but Mike. Well, Mike, but more importantly how he makes him feel: so happy, so listened to, so short. And it’s all okay. It’s nothing. Just one small thing in a short life full of so many wonderful, loving things.

**Author's Note:**

> [The Rebloggable Post!](https://argylemikewheeler.tumblr.com/post/189815695160/i-saw-this-post-and-just-had-the-idea-of-will)


End file.
